


Voice of the Past

by theCreativeWriter



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Frozen (Disney Movies), Hercules (1997)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Heavy Angst, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Past Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theCreativeWriter/pseuds/theCreativeWriter
Summary: [Modern MegElsa AU]:"Feelings that come back are feelings that never left" - DailyQuotesWhen Meg gets an unknown visit from the person she never thought she would ever see again, a voice from the past reminds her of why she fell for this person in the first place.*WARNING: Mentions of Past Abuse, Trauma, Use of Drugs and Infidelity
Relationships: Elsa/Hans (Disney), Elsa/Megara (Disney), Past Elsa/Astrid Hofferson, Past Megara/Esmeralda, Past Megara/Gaston
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this on my mind for a while. So a few things:
> 
> 1) I do not own any of these characters. They rightfully belong to Disney.
> 
> 2) This is my second attempt at writing femslash, so please go easy on me.
> 
> 3) This story will contain mentions of past abuse (physical, sexual, emotional) as well as past drug and alcohol abuse and mentions of infidelity. Eventually, there will be smut so again, if y'all are underage, then calmly step away from the story! You've been warned!
> 
> 4) If you like it, great! If you don't...well...then that makes kind of sad...

It’s after midnight, and there’s two raps of knocks on her front door in quick succession.

Looking sharply over her shoulder, Meg Korso sighs mordantly as she rolls her eyes. _Who the hell is at my door?!_

Because in reality, the last thing she wanted right now was company. She turns back to her sofa, kneeling on the ground, the sound of the zipper buzzing through her ears as she carefully closes the pouch that contained her brand-new Yamaha guitar. She takes a look at her packed suitcases that were situated near her sofa, studying each of them with squinted eyes to make sure that she wasn’t forgetting anything.

Whoever was at the door could wait.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

_Fuck off!_ She wanted so desperately to shout out. She groans as she rolls her eyes once again and instead, rises to her feet. The last thing she needed was to have her neighbors in the apartment a few doors down to be calling the front desk to complain.

And truth be told, she especially didn’t need an impromptu visit from her creepy landlord.

She stifles a yawn as her bare feet tread across the hardwood floor of her apartment. Once she makes it towards the door, she doesn’t bother to use the peep hole to see who it was. Nor did she take a second to quickly glance at herself in the mirror to see if she looked the least bit presentable. Because at this point, maybe it wouldn’t be such a horrible thing if she had opened the door to find a serial killing knife wielding maniac barge into her home and do whatever he wanted to her.

After all, there were better places to be than here on Earth. She would sometimes think to herself.

Rubbing the tiredness from her eyes, her hand grasps the doorknob, preparing to be slaughtered and drowning in her own pool of blood…

…but when she pulls the door open, her eyes are widened, her brows are raised and her muscles go rigid. Because the person who was standing on the other side of the door, was the last person she ever expected to see again.

“Meg…”

“E-Elsa…” She breathes, completely knocked sideways. “What…what are you…”

The woman standing in front of her is an emotional wreck. Her platinum blonde hair is still in its usual French braid, though it looked like its seen better days. Her beautiful sapphire eyes are now bloodshot around the edges. Purple bags coated underneath her eyes; proof that lack of sleep had gotten to her. She looked thinner than usual, her cheeks slightly gaunt and pale, and a fat swollen lip with what looked like dried blood was the last thing to add to the picture.

Not to mention, her usual style of skinny jeans paired with her two-inch azure heels with a white blouse were swapped for a pair of black yoga leggings, light blue flip flops and a minty blue tank top with a black leather jacket. Proof that thinking twice before she had left her house had been the last thing on her mind.

“Meg…” She croaks with pleading eyes, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I’m…I…”

“Elsa,” Meg swallows with a pained look, “…what happened?”

The woman blinks once, and then another. She quickly turns away, staring shamefully at the ground. “I…I…he…”

Meg takes a tentative step towards her. She pinches her chin between her thumb and forefinger, gently tilting the woman’s head up so that their gazes could meet for what felt like eternity. She swallows down a large lump. Her own eyes slowly began to water as her stomach dropped.

The bruise that had begun as a purple stain above Elsa’s eyebrow had sunk into the socket itself. Leaving to now have the appearance of a black eye. And right away, Meg could already decipher the pain in those eyes. The pain she knew full well that had been sitting there for the past two years. She merely uses her thumb, stroking Elsa’s cheek softly, watching as the woman was now craning her neck as she instantly leans into her gentle touch.

“He did this to you.” Meg says quietly. “Again.”

Elsa only looks at her. Gaze pleading. Begging. Because the look that Meg was giving her, it only confirmed her suspicion. Even Elsa knew that Meg was no stranger when it came to something like this. All she could do, was to shift her eyes to the side yet again, only for them to become glazed with a glassy layer of tears. And when she blinked, they dripped down her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. Her lower lip trembled as she finally looks back into those violet pearls staring into her own.

Those violet eyes that she dreamed of seeing once again.

“He…” Her voice tightens, pitch wavering. “Meg…he…”

“Come here.”

Meg pulls Elsa close to her and wrapped her arms around her. Hands climbed up Elsa’s back as Meg pulled her towards her and closes the distance between them. Their bodies press together, as Elsa desperately lifts her arms and wraps them around Meg’s neck. She buries her nose into the crook of Meg’s neck, inhaling her sweet scent of lavender that always filled her with nothing but joy and passion. Her body shakes with sobs into her shoulder, holding onto her for dear life, as if she was afraid to ever let her go again.

“Shh…it’s okay, babe.” _Babe_ …how she missed hearing that word from those sweet lips. “I’m here.”

Meg’s voice was always so soft, so beautiful, and so… _alluring_. A soothing melody that Elsa remembered always falling asleep to after their nights of passionate love. A beautiful song that Elsa so dearly missed for the two years they’ve been apart.

“Meg...oh Meg…h-he…” She chokes on the plentiful of sobs burning in her throat. “H-he hit me…he b-beat me…h-he wouldn’t s-stop…”

“I know.”

She does. Because Meg herself knew this situation all too well. Her own past immediately begins to play ring-around-the-rosy like a deadly plague in her head.

A horrific nightmare she so desperately wanted to avoid for the rest of her life.

“I-I…M-Meg…I…I-I’m s-so sorry…” Her voice was muffled by the fabric of Meg’s black cropped t-shirt. “Oh Meg…I-I miss y-you…”

“It’s okay, Elsa.” She means it. “Shh…I’ve got you, okay?”

Meg slowly pulls away, though they still stayed close. Elsa was hiccupping. Her body trembling. Tears ran uncontrollably down her cheeks, and Meg only brings her hands up. She cups Elsa’s face in her hands, running her thumbs softly to wipe the tears away from her pale cheeks.

“I won’t let him hurt you again.” She tells her.

Elsa’s eyes widen. “He…he’ll f-find me…”

“No, he won’t.” Meg leans forward to place a soft kiss to her forehead. “You’re staying here with me, okay?”

“I…I am?”

She sighs with a small smile. “Yes.” She strokes her cheeks. “For as long as you need.”

“But…Meg…” She croaks, “M-Meg I…I c-can’t-“

“Yes, you can. You’ll be safe here.” She says in firm but gentle tone. “You’re not going anywhere else.”

 _‘I can’t do that to you.’_ Elsa only opens her mouth to speak, but closes it shut. The words she so desperately wanted to say failed to make their appearance. ‘ _I just can’t. Not after what I did. Not after how I horribly treated you. Not after how I just pushed you away and acted like you meant nothing to me. I don’t deserve you or your kindness…but I still love you’…_ ”Meg…I-“

She’s silenced by the gentle force of their bodies being brought together. Arms wrapped around her being. Meg’s embrace was always warm, and her arms were very protective when they wrapped around Elsa’s frail body. Instantly, the world around them melted away as she squeezes her back, not wanting the moment to end.

“You’re coming with me.”

She pulls away slowly, furrowing her brow. “…Coming with you?”

“Yes.”

“You mean we’re…” A pause. “We’re not…staying…”

“No.” She shakes her head with a small smile. “We’re going somewhere.”

“But Meg…where…”

She pauses, noting the way how Meg nodded over her shoulder. No doubt that she had caught sight of the two suitcases and the duffel bag that stood behind Elsa’s heel. Truth be told, Elsa had been silently hoping that Meg wouldn’t notice them.

But judging by her odd request, it was clear that she had.

“…where will we go?” She asks quietly instead.

“It’s okay.” Meg whispers. “You’ll see.”

* * *

They’d already been driving for an hour. The only downside was that they still had another hour to go until they reached their final destination.

Especially because normally, driving on a one-way road at twilight was not something that Meg usually preferred. No matter how many times she’s done it alone on numerous occasions, something about didn’t seem safe. And she would be lying if she didn’t admit that there were times where she had a sense that she was being followed.

But tonight, was different. And for once, there was an odd sense of comfort that blanketed her instead of being cloaked with fear and uncertainty.

She doesn’t take her eyes off the smoothed paved grounds in front of her, making sure to follow the trail of her bright hazards lights that lit up the road like strobing lights in arena. Her hands were gripped tightly on the steering wheel, her foot eased off the pedal just a tiny bit as she slowly manoeuvres her Mazda around a curve.

Truth be told, since they had left, she made sure to keep her focus on what was in front of her. Not bothering to look at _who_ was beside her. And if she was being honest with herself, a heavy weight of guilt is now sitting on her chest. Because part of her was thinking _‘she left you and now she wants to come back?’._ No matter how much the feeling of neglect and abandonment was aching inside of her, all feelings of bitterness and resentment needed to be put aside.

Elsa needed her. She needed that love from her that she failed to get at home.

And Meg was more than willing to give her those needs.

Even if it pained her to do so.

“Elsa?” She finally musters up the courage to look at the woman sitting hunched in the passenger seat. “…Are you okay?”

The woman is quiet at first, clutching her duffel bag protectively in her lap. Because truth be told, it wasn’t like she herself had made any effort to look in Meg’s direction either. Nor did she take any sort initiative to start a conversation.

Instead, Elsa keeps her eyes focused to the side, staring out the window as she watched blurry black shadows of pine trees passing by. Forcing herself to focus on anything else other than _her_. Because in reality, how she could _bare_ to look at her? How she could _bear_ to look at the woman whom she betrayed?

The woman who turned her bad days into good days? The woman whose love was the only medicine she needed to get through in life? The woman who always made her laugh with those sarcastic and witty comments? Who always put Elsa’s needs above her own? Whose touch would send electric waves surging through her entire being? Who would make sweet love to her that left her having a glance at what heaven looked like?

And the woman whose heart she had shattered into a million pieces?

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t. She couldn’t stand the thought of looking into those eyes that had promised to love her for the rest of their lives.

Instead, all she does is close her eyes and lower head. She catches her quivering lip between her teeth, ignoring the pain of the swelling. There’s a thickness in her throat, attempting to swallow down the large lump sitting on her vocal folds. _You don’t deserve her!_ Because she doesn’t. _You don’t deserve her!_ Because she absolutely loathed herself for even thinking that she did. _You don’t-_

“Elsa.” She winces as the title was said hesitantly, though it held a slight firmness to it. “Can you please look at me?”

Her eyes are still closed and she inhales sharply through her nose. _You don’t deserve her!_

“Hey,”

She tries not to jump at the feeling of flesh meeting her own. She turns sharply to look to her side, noting how Meg had reached over the console and gently grabbed hold of her hand. Part of her was wanting to rip her hand away, too dirty to hold onto a hand that had always reassured her that the world was safe.

But she does the complete opposite.

Instead, she lets Meg lace their fingers together, her thumb rubbing over her cold knuckles. She doesn’t look at her, deciding to keep her gaze focused on their hands linked together. Because truth be told, she missed this. It was all she wanted and everything she craved.

“It’s going to be okay.”

_It’s going to be okay…_

She wanted to believe that. Really and truly she did. She just wasn’t sure how long _being okay_ would last for.

* * *

They weren’t exactly sure what time they had arrived. But that didn’t matter. The important thing was that they had each other, and that was all they needed.

It was the cottage where they had ended up that caused Elsa’s eyes to bulge, her mouth to drop open and a light gasp to escape.

The beige colored paint of the exterior on the outside with white accents around the door, windows and railing. The pathway was long and straight like the last time. Mellow grey cobblestones leading towards those few steps that had led her to the door where sweet temptation always waited for her with eagerness. The delicate wind chime attached to the awning, the sound always sung mezzo soprano to the sounds of their soprano moaning and whimpers. Two enormous maple trees stood proudly beside the house like they always did. 

Because this was place was all too familiar.

Because this was a place that she never thought she would _ever_ see again. And it was the place that had made her commit a handful sins behind those closed doors like it was no one’s business.

“Come on.” Meg had gently urged as she wrapped a protective arm around her, preventing her from wanting to turn on her heel and run away from this.

Meg didn’t seem to have a problem walking down the stony path, nor did she have an issue when she climbed those steps to the front door. Because of course, this was _her_ place after all. The place where she needed an escape from the realities of living in the busy streets of Toronto. The place where she would often seek solace and tranquility for creative inspiration.

And of course, it was the place that she had opened up the doors for Elsa to come and join her any time.

But for Elsa, with each step she took, she was greeted by those memories of dishonesty. Guilt sits heavily on her chest. Her heart thuds violently inside of her chest. As she’s climbing the steps, arms wrapped tightly around her being, the thoughts of unfaithfulness come to haunt her.

Her breath hitches in her throat at the sound of Meg’s key dangling as she opens the door, noting how she doesn’t bother to turn on the lights. Instead, their engulfed in darkness, and Meg wastes no time in guiding her through the pitch-black darkness towards the bedroom. Elsa says nothing as Meg helps her to sit on the bed, gently instructing her to wait there until she brought the rest of the suitcases inside.

Elsa says nothing as she sits in the dark room, with only the thin white columns on the moonlight to seep in through the glass windows, and it bounces of her black leather jacket. She keeps her head bowed, a solemn look spreading across her features. Because the bed that she was sitting on, was the very same bed that induced the images of her infidelity to come to light.

The things that she and Meg had done in this bed was haunting.

But at the same time…it was comforting.

Haunting in the sense that cheating on her fiancé was wrong. But it was comforting in the sense that when she would be here with Meg, there was a sense of security. With Meg, it wasn’t just sex. It was much more than that. And Elsa hated to admit that being here with Meg was her own escape from reality.

Instantly, regret washes over her like the long slew of waves that echoes faintly on the shallow beach outside. It was in that moment when she felt tears forming heavily on her eyelashes. They slide down her cheek one by one, and she does nothing to stop them. How she longed to go back and take a different path, but now that was impossible. There was no way back, no way to make things right. Remorse was already eating away at her like there was no tomorrow. But even she knew deep down, that she would have to live with this for the rest of her life.

Though her thoughts are immediately put on hold at the sound of the door closing and locking. The shuffling followed by small grunts of heavy lifting causes a knot to form in her stomach.

It was in that moment when Meg’s shadowy figure is standing in the doorway that had forced Elsa to slowly look up from the ground. It was dark, so they couldn’t make out the expression on each other’s faces. But judging by their body language, it doesn’t take Meg a century to know that there was sadness radiating from her being. And when she slowly makes her way towards her, shifting her weight onto the bed so that’s she sitting next to her, it doesn’t take long for her tears to burst forth like water from the dam. Feeling the muscles of her chin tremble like a small child.

Elsa says nothing as Meg wraps her arms around her and brings her close. She says nothing as she buries her head into Meg’s neck. Fingers snaking up and down her spine, warm lips pressing a kiss to the crown of her head and she desperately wraps her arms around Meg’s waist. Brick by brick, the walls that always kept her up on her feet, always kept her strong just...collapse. She sobs unceasingly into Meg’s shoulder, her frail pale hands clutching at the leather fabric of her jacket.

“Shh.” Meg’s sultry voice whispers into her ear as she slowly rocks her back and forth as tears soaked her neck and shoulder. “You’re okay, Elsa. You’re okay.”

Because being _okay_ was the one thing she wanted to feel right now.

* * *

Meg stayed up all night.

It was now shy of six thirty in the morning and she hadn’t gotten any sleep. Maybe it hadn’t been such a wise idea to have made a quick pit stop to Tim Horton's for a medium double, double coffee. Not to mention, the mug that was sitting in front of her with only a quarter left of black coffee with two sugars and three creams didn’t do much to help the subside the situation either. But at this point in her life, the two mugs of coffee had consumed hours earlier was a much better option as opposed to her having turned to her usual ‘coping mechanism’.

Having spent the last four hours tending to Elsa’s needs – soothing her with kind words and rocking her to sleep while she sobbed into Meg’s shoulder, and making sure that she had stayed with her so that she fell asleep – it was a miracle that Meg had instead headed towards her espresso machine as opposed to marching towards the cabinet, scavenging for a bottle of vodka.

It was in that moment that the last few months she’s been here, that she remembered that she had tossed the bottles of alcohol and liquor away. It was something she knew she needed to. Something that had reminded her that she needed to make a change in her life. And getting rid of her addiction to alcohol was something that she needed to adapt to in her new lifestyle. After all, the last thing she needed was to have Elsa wake up at whatever time in the day, and find her dunk on the sofa, drinking her life away without a care in the world.

She couldn’t let that happen. Refused to let that happen.

It wasn’t who she was anymore. And no matter how much she was tempted, Meg couldn’t let herself go down that path again. Because after having experienced the worst of the worst, she just knew that she would may never be fortunate enough to find the light at the end up of the tunnel.

She’s sitting on the couch, violet pearls that were red around the edges staring blankly at the golden petals of the sun stretching ever outward into the rich blue. The sound of the waves crashing amongst the sandy bed of the shore even failed to calm her frazzled nerves. She hadn’t made an effort to change out of her grey sweatpants paired with her black cropped t-shirt. Her hands balled into fists to prevent her fingers from shaking any more than they already were, her pulse beating a thousand times faster than its usual rate.

Again, courtesy of the two mugs of coffee she had consumed earlier.

But the coffee wasn’t the only thing that had been keeping her awake.

Elsa had come back to her.

_‘But…why did she come back?’_

She didn’t know…but at the same time…she _did_ know.

 _‘But she made it clear that she wanted_ nothing _to do with me ever again.’_

She hadn’t.

_‘So…why now?’_

Without any advanced warning, there she was. Standing at the door to her apartment, looking so helpless, so frightened, so defeated. It was like one minute; Elsa had the world as her oyster – holding it in the palm of her hand. And then the next, it was like a bulldozer had come and knocked down all of her walls. Stripping her of _everything_ and _any_ dignity she had left, leaving her with nothing but a loss of hope and a broken future.

Truth be told, Meg mentally cursed herself for not having had the balls to tell her _‘We’ve both moved on. You made this decision, now go and lie on it’_ and shut the door the in her face and move on with her life. After all, deep down in the pit of her stomach, Meg knew that Elsa deserved that sort of treatment. It was the same treatment that Elsa had given to Meg. And a woman like Elsa, at the time, had felt no ways giving that off coldness that people always perceived her to be.

Elsa deserved it. She deserved to be treated like she was nothing but a ‘broken record’ with no hope for a future. She deserved to be seen like a ‘troubled woman’ whose only hope for a future consisted of turning to drugs and alcohol for comfort. She deserved to be seen as ‘damaged goods.’

Because it was exactly how she once viewed Meg.

It was exactly how she perceived her the minute things started going downhill for them.

It was exactly how Meg should’ve treated her the minute she knocked desperately on her door. And no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t.

It was the black eye that caused her stomach to sink down deeper. It was the swollen lip, and the numerous shades of black, blue and purple bruises scattered like a disease up and down her pale arms, a purple ring outlining the expanse of her frail neck that caused her heart to ache. It was like looking at a helpless little girl in desperate need of a mother’s love that caused Meg to do the exact opposite.

Because looking at Elsa now, so broken and damaged, it was if Meg herself was looking at her own reflection in the mirror.

Broken, a lost cause, undesirable, battered.

Dirty.

Because Meg knew.

She knew what it was like to have your life stripped away from you. A life that was controlled by people who only cared about fulfilling their own selfish desires. A life where she was merely their puppet and was forced to do things that she didn’t want to do.

She even knew what it was like to have someone’s hand laid upon her in the most violet way possible. A man’s hand striking her because she had said the wrong thing that did nothing to benefit them in the long run. A woman’s hand slapping her if she was out of line for speaking without permission. To have her body used for daily boxing practices and for sexual pleasures.

Not to mention, she knew was it like to have words thrown at her to her diminish her self-confidence. Because that was life she lived. Having to walk around with long sleeve shirts and turtle necks to hide the bruises. To have woken up in bed naked with hickeys, scratches and feeling sore the next morning while _his_ body was laying next to hers with barely any memory of what happened the night before.

She couldn’t press charges. Even if she wanted to. Because after all, _‘no one will believe a dirty whore.’_

A ‘dirty whore’ was who, at the time, was a starving musician.

She knew it all, and the images of her past had provoked the vile in her stomach to begin swirling about. Which is why she knew, deep down, that no matter how much Elsa had pained her, Meg knew that she couldn’t just abandon her.

Elsa needed her. She needed her more than ever.

And right now, it was the time for Meg to do so.

Instead of trying to run from her past like she had grown immune to doing, part of changing her lifestyle was to start confronting the demons of her past. Even after all those times that Elsa had closed the door on her multiple times when Meg would beg her for help, it was Meg who decided to leave the door open for Elsa.

 _‘Now’s not the time for revenge, because in the end…it will only end up hurting_ you _.’_

Heaving a heavy sigh, Meg shakes her head. Waking herself up from the atrocious images that scattered amongst her brain. She hadn’t noticed the way how her bottom lip was trembling. Nor did she allow the tears that were welling up in her eyes to spill down her cheeks. Instead, she brings her hands up to her face, using the heels of her palms to wipe them away.

Now was not the time take part in the self-loathing.

She wasn’t that person anymore.

Instead, she lets her bare feet drop to the soft, carpeted floor that was a cream beige color, and rises to her feet. She doesn’t bother to stretch out her limbs and instead lets her feet guide her towards the room at the back.

Taking a deep breath with her hand hovering the golden handle, she grasps onto it and slowly pushes the door open. It was still dark, though it filled with shades of orange and pink reflecting through the glass window. Noting the platinum blonde hair peeking out from the covers, and the way how her body was cocooned underneath the covers, it was the softened features on Elsa’s closed eyelids that caused the unexpected tension to release itself from Meg.

_‘Beautiful…’_

She crosses her arms over her chest, leans on one foot and lets her shoulder rest against the frame of the door. Her gaze never left the woman sleeping in her bed. The woman whom she once loved, and the woman whom had broken her heart and turned her away without a single glance back. Because Elsa truly was a beautiful person, and Meg had often found her questioning what on earth she had done to have this woman come back into her life.

Instantly, her brows draw together, her face tightened.

Sure, Elsa may be back. For _now._

The question was for _how long would_ she stay for?

There’s a light quiver in her stomach. Her lips purse, and she bites the inside of her cheek. Her throat bobbed with the large lump she just swallowed.

Without a second thought, Meg pushes herself off the frame and slowly grabs the handle to close the door shut. She heads towards the counter in the kitchen, noting that she had left her bag there.

Fishing through her bag with haste, she pulls out her IPhone and uses her thumb to press the button. The tiny screen comes to life, and she was relieved to find that her call history and voicemail was empty. Her fingers then tap the little ‘messenger’ icon and they scroll downwards until they locate the name that she desperately needed.

Hesitating, staring at the black bold letters of his name, she releases the breath that was holding and begins tapping her thumbs against the screen.

 **Megara Korso:** Can you call me?

She hits the send blue ‘send’ button. Then takes a few steps backwards, her back hitting the smooth surface of the wooden cabinet behind. She closes her eyes, brings a hand to her now throbbing head.

However, it wasn’t long until she felt a harsh vibration rubbing against the palm of her hand. The tension immediately releases itself from her body and relief washes over her as she eagerly opens the message.

 **Hercules Altonos:** Of course. Is everything okay? Did you make it to the cottage safely?

 **Megara Korso:** Yea, I did. Thanks. I just really need to talk right now.

 **Hercules Altonos:** I’ll call you right now.

* * *

It turns out that her phone call with Hercules that took a place a few days ago was exactly the medicine she needed. As always, he was patient as he let her vent about her struggles and the issues she was facing, he was very helpful as he always was, and he managed to provide her with some comforting words of wisdom and encouragement that was able to calm her down. Followed by _“as long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”_

His usual saying that nothing but a soft melody to Meg’s ears.

Sometimes, Meg wondered what a fine young man like Hercules could ever see in a ‘broken record’ like herself. And she would admit, that it was refreshing to, for once, have someone in her life that actually cared about her. To have someone do whatever it took to make her smile on her bad days.

Hercules was one of a kind, and Meg was grateful that she had found him.

Though the past three days have smoothed itself out for her, she couldn’t exactly say the same for Elsa.

Three days had passed, and Elsa had barely come out of the room. She’d hardly eaten. Barely even smiled or showed any sort of emotion. All she had done was stay cocooned beneath the warm blankets in the bedroom, shaking like a child terrified of a clown.

And it was those past three nights that Meg had awoken in the middle of the night to whimpering and sobbing from the bedroom.

Those past three nights that were filled with those same choked out words of _“p-please d-don’t leave me!”_ and _“I-I’m s-sorry!”._ Those past three nights that she would hold Elsa in the dark as she cradled her, rocking her back and forth while whispering _“shh”_ or _“it’s okay, I’m here”_ while she stroked her hair and placed soft kisses on her forehead. Then she would stay until Elsa had finally calmed down and was able to fall asleep.

Meg couldn’t fault her for that though.

Considering what Elsa has gone through over the past two years, recovering from such a traumatic experience always took time. Something that Meg was no stranger to.

It’s now Thursday morning, and Meg is in the kitchen, frying up some bacon, pancakes and scrambled eggs on the stove. She decided on a pair of jean shorts with a white t-shirt, thankful that the air conditioning was now working. As she’s finishing up frying the last piece of bacon, it was the sound of small, tentative shoeless footsteps that managed to gain her attention as she turned over her shoulder.

“You’re awake.” She says gently with a small, but relieved smile.

Elsa is standing by the fridge. Her arms crossed around her middle protectively, though she looked as if she was a lost puppy looking for its home. Her hair is still in its braid, though it was now hanging limp and greasy, and there’s still dark circles under her eyes. It was a good thing that she finally decided to have changed out of her outfit from before. Wearing grey sweatpants and long-sleeved black shirt.

“Are you hungry?” Meg asks as she turns back to the stove. “I’m just finishing up with breakfast.”

Elsa opens her mouth to speak, then close it shut. “…what time is it?”

“10:30.”

“Oh…” She looks down. “…how long was I asleep for?”

“You passed out at around 7:30 last night.” Meg says as she scoops the food onto two separate plates. “Then you woke up again at around 12:30.”

Elsa winces at that. “…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

She brings the two plates of food out and places them on the dining table, the two careful to avoid eye contact with one another. She pulls a chair out for Elsa, though her brows furrowed at Elsa’s lack of attempt to make one single move.

“Hey,” She calls out gently, though she notes how Elsa winces slightly, “come sit.”

The woman heaves a heavy sigh, then shakes her head. “I…I’m not really hungry.”

Meg places a hand to her hip. “Elsa,” her brows merge to a frown, “you’ve barely eaten anything since we got here.” She takes a few tentative steps towards her, and she couldn’t help noticing the way how Elsa’s shoulders began to shrink lower with each step she took. “You should eat something.”

But Elsa says nothing. Instead, her only response was to press her lips into a tight line.

“Elsa, it’s okay.” She reaches out a hand to touch her – only to jerk it back when Elsa flinches away from her. “Just…come sit down and-“

“I told you I’m not hungry.”

“Elsa-“

“I wanna go back and sleep.”

“But Elsa-“

Meg barely has a chance to say get the rest of her words out before Elsa is rushing back towards the bedroom. The door shuts with a boisterous _bang_ and she winces at the impact. A pensive expression presents itself on her features, and Meg only turns to glance back at the two plates of food with a now solemn look.

* * *

“I’m glad you called.”

Meg sighs. “Me too.”

“You sounded a little desperate with your text messages.” Hercules Altonos explains with his eyebrows drawing together through the screen, his voice was soft, though it was powerful through the little speaker. “I was a little worried there for a second.”

“So was I.” She responds with another sigh. “But talking to you is making me feel better.”

He smiles, his gorgeous smile that looked like he could definitely belong on the cover of **‘Canada’s Next Top Male Model: Greek God Edition’**. “I’m happy to hear that, Meg. You know I’m always here when you need me.”

Her lips tilt into a smile. “Yea. So, how are you?”

It was a relief to know that the WiFi connection worked so perfectly in this area – though it was also a relief that Elsa was in the back sleeping. Because truth be told, if Meg couldn’t have an excuse to use her Macbook Pro and be able to Skype, then there was probably a good chance that she would’ve either gone insane, or turn to back to her old habits to cope.

And with Hercules being the generous person he always was, he doesn’t waste anytime to launch into a quick, modest explanation of this and that (“I’m doing alright, can’t complain.” – “How are things at the studio?” – “It’s going well, though it’s not the same without you there.” – “I know, I kinda miss it.”) They small talk for a bit. About Zeus, Hercules’ father, about Meg and how proud he was of her for being able to start fresh with her new life.

If Meg was being honest with herself, she would admit whole heartedly that without a doubt, Hercules was the epitome of every young woman’s ‘Prince Charming who also happens to be the hottest guy on the planet’.

He was handsome no doubt.

From the depths of the brilliant blue eyes that twinkled every time he smiled, to the gentle expressions of his voice. He often wore t-shirts that showed off the sun-kissed color of his skin and that clung to every expanse of muscle he had, and he usually kept his curly orangey hair tousled. All it took was one look, and immediately, both women, _and_ men would instantly swoon at the sight of him no matter what sexual preference they had.

Although, and as always, Hercules was straight. But that didn’t stop men from hitting on him from time to time. And despite his Grecian looks, and all the advances that came his way, he was a one-woman-man who prized genuineness and thoughtful conversation above lipstick and high-heels. Something that made him stand out from the rest of the men that Meg has ever come in contact with.

It was one of the things that made him beautiful on the inside.

However, it was when the conversation began to run dry that Meg picks at the strings on her guitar that’s sitting in her lap with a troubled look.

“How are you though, Meg?”

She looks up, noting the gentle expression on his prominent features. She sucks on her lip, takes a breath. “I’ve…been okay, I guess.”

He raises a brow. “You sure about that?”

She shrugs.

“Y’know, I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

A loose chuckle falls from her lips. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh yea.” He nods then laughs lightly. “You’re like an open book sometimes.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Hey, it’s not a bad thing.”

Another shrug. “I guess not.”

There’s another bout of silence that lingers far too long for both of their comfort. The only sounds to fill the empty void were the low undertones of a bass cello with an intricate piano melody accompanied by the sultry vocals of Elvis Presley sounding in the background from his side of the screen.

Dreading the heavy absence of words settling between them, she’s about to apologize for disturbing him yet again, when – “Hey Aphrodite, I’m in the middle of a call. Call dad and tell him I’ll be a little late getting to the studio!”

“Alright!”

Meg watches as he rises from his chair, revealing his perfectly sculpted muscles bulging from the red-tank top he’s wearing that hung off his body and briefly disappears from the screen. There’s a white digital Yamaha piano in the background, along with a Neumann TLM Microphone that’s situated on his wooden desk where his Mac Computer sat with a pair of wireless headphones along with newest version of the Novation Circuit Synth pad to add to the picture.

After all, he _was_ the son of Zeus.

She hears the soft _click_ of his door closing shut, and then he appears in front of the screen yet again.

“Sorry about that.” He settles himself down in his chair. “I forgot I was supposed to head down there today. Aphrodite reminded me this morning.”

“Oh…well, Herc, if you have to go to the studio, then don’t let me stop you.” Meg says with a guilty look. “We can always talk when-“

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” He reassures her with a chuckle. “I’m sure they can handle things without me for a while. They’ll survive.”

She bites her lip. “Are you sure?”

“Meg, I wouldn’t tell ‘yes’ if I didn’t mean it, would I?”

She shakes her head.

“And besides, you’re my main priority right now.” He says. “My dad knows that I have to be there literally twenty-four-seven for my clients.”

She sighs. “Yea, I guess have a point there.”

“I shouldn’t have to remind you that my clients are my priority. Which makes _you_ my priority, right?”

She rolls her eyes, and chuckles. “Alright, Wonder boy. You’ve made your point loud and clear.”

“Good.” He smiles. “I’m glad.”

Meg had to make a mental reminder to herself to thank the Gods and lucky stars that a man like Hercules and his noble father, Zeus, had both come into her life. Because really and truly, without them, it was hard to know where in her life she would’ve ended up.

“Alright, so talk to me.” He leans a bit closer to the screen, so close that she could literally feel his hot breath on her skin. “What’s been going on lately?”

She rests both of her arms on the body of her guitar. “Ah, just the same old. Nothing really new.”

“I see.” He nods. “How’s the new song coming along?”

She heaves a heavy sigh. “Slow. _Very_ … _slooowww…_ ”

He chuckles. “I get it. That’s normal. Did you write any lyrics for it yet?”

Another sigh. “Yea.”

“And…?”

She gives him a deadpanned expression. “They suck.”

He laughs at this. “Come on, I’m sure they can’t be _that_ bad.”

“ _Washing a dog, and bathing it in blue shampoo_? You’re telling me that _that_ doesn’t suck?”

His eyebrows raise and his go wide. His upper lip quivers upward, fighting a smile as she smirks at him through the screen. “Uh…” He blinks. “Okay…um…” He scratches the back of his neck, “…that does kinda suck…”

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He laughs. Then she joins in laughing with him. It’s all sort of old and new at once, and she has to wonder if she’ll ever have to go through the motions of finding a new manager again. Because really and truly, there was no in hell that she would be willing to part from Hercules any time soon.

“But seriously though,” Hercules calms down a bit from laughing, his expression going a bit serious, but with a slightly worried gaze, “you’re not…actually thinking of using those lyrics in the song though…” His voice slightly raises in pitch, a bit shaky, “…right?”

She rolls her eyes, chuckles. “Not unless you want me to be the laughing stock of your record company and ruin your reputation.”

He breathes out a sigh. “Okay, phew!” He makes a scene of dramatically wiping his brow. “Thank the Gods!”

She laughs at this, really laughs. Something she hadn’t done in such a long time. And for the first time in a while, Meg had to ask herself when the last time was that she ever felt so at ease.

“Don’t worry though, Meg.” He tells her with a smile. “Like I said, it’s normal. You’re probably just experiencing a bit of writer’s block right now.”

She groans. “I hate writer’s block.”

“I know, it sucks.” He agrees and leans back in his chair. “Unfortunately, every single singer-songwriter goes through that. But don’t worry though, you’ll get over it.”

“I hope so.” She rests her head against the palm of her hand. “I just…I just feel like I’ve been lacking inspiration lately.”

“That’s normal too. It gets the best of _all_ of us. Right now, I think the best thing to do would be to maybe take a break from it.” He says. “Don’t think too much about it, otherwise you _will_ go crazy. The best thing to do is to just about your day; do the things that bring you joy and happiness, something that will help to put your mind at ease. And then when you’re ready and you feel inspired, write some stuff down. Almost like you’re keeping a personal diary or something.”

Yup. There was definitely _no_ way that she was giving him up any time soon. And if it weren’t for Meg’s attraction to women, she would gladly would’ve married Hercules right then and there. No questions asked.

Though there’s a short bout of silence lingering between them, they keep their gazes trained on another. Violet pearls staring straight into the fleck of his blue ones. A smile lifts at the corners of her mouth, a calming sensation filling her insides.

“You always know just what to say when I’m feeling down, Herc.” She says softly. “Thank you. I needed that.”

He smiles. “Eh, well, I like to make my clients happy.”

_‘That he sure did.’_

“Take some time with the lyrics. No rush, we’ve got plenty of time.” He says as he grabs his stress ball and tosses it up in the air. “What about chords? Were you able to get any ideas for those?”

She immediately perks up. “As a matter of fact,” she lifts the sling of her guitar around her neck, cradling the arm of it in her hand, “I just came up with those right before I called you.”

“Really?”

“Sure did.”

“That’s amazing!” He eagerly perks himself back up in his chair and leans in closer to the screen. “Let’s hear it!”

She smiles. “Alright Wonder boy, you asked for it.”

She has to take a minute to compose herself and calm her beating heart down. Mentally reminding herself that it was _just_ Hercules. Not millions of heads and various eyes all staring at her in the crowded stadium. Truth be told, no matter how many shows she’d done in the past, it was the thought of performing her music to strangers that she didn’t know, and performing to people that she did know that often caused the heart palpitations and brief panic attacks backstage. 

That had been with her old manager.

But with Hercules, things were a bit different. Though she had nerves from time to time.

Without a second thought, her fingers began fiddling the strings, gliding over each and every one in a steady rhythm. She closes her eyes, allowing herself to get lost in the sound of her guitar and she absent mindedly hums a tune. The sweet refrain of instrument often spoke to her soul, and this time, it was definitely speaking to her. Greeting her like an old friend. Her strumming sound had a hypnotic soothing quality that she craved, and it was something she hadn’t heard, or felt in such a long time. It was haunting; switching from a major chord, to a minor chord, followed by a brief visitation into a secondary dominant chord, but it was something that was beautiful to the ears.

She comes to a close. When she opens her eyes, she hadn’t been expecting to see an awestruck Hercules with widened eyes and smile.

She bites her lip. “…what do you think?”

He blinks once, and then another. “I think that’s the most _beautiful_ thing I’ve ever heard.”

She blushes. “You think so?”

“Meg, I don’t think you realize how talented you are.”

He was right. She didn’t know. And sometimes, she often forgot. Allowing the fear of judgement and constant criticism to fill cloud her thoughts.

“It’s funny,” A dry chuckle, “Hades would _never_ have gone for a sound like that.”

His smile drops. His gaze hardens and Hercules has to resist the urge to punch a hole through the screen of his Macbook. “Forget Hades. He has _no_ idea what _true talent_ is.”

She sighs. “I guess you’re right about that.”

“Meg, what Hades did to you,” He begins with a saddened tone, “how he treated you…”

She swallows down a painful lump, recalling the horrid memories of her _one_ reasoning for ending up in a drug and alcohol infested stupor.

“…It’s not your fault, Meg.”

Her brows pinch into a grimace and she looks down. “It feels like it is…”

“Hey, look at me.”

She looks up.

“Hades is gone, okay? He’s never going to hurt you, or come near you again. He’s out of the picture.” She swallows again, muscles tensing and her stomach churning. “You have me now. Me, my dad and Phil. You’re no longer indebted to **_Underworld Studios_** anymore. **_Mount Olympus Records_** is where you belong. You have _us_.”

Which was true. **_Mount Olympus Records_** was now her new home. Had been for the past six months. And for once in her life, it was a place where she could be _herself._ Nothing was expected of her other than her time, her energy and her creativity. No deals had to be made, and no favors needed to be exchanged.

“What would I do without you, Herc?” Her voice cracks, though a small smile slowly reappears on her features. “You’ve all been…so good to me.”

“It’s what we stand for, Meg. Unlike Hades, we _care_ about our clients and our artists. We want to see them go places. Not treat them likes slaves.”

Fact.

“Remind me to thank your dad for buying out Hades’ business.” She says with a soft chuckle.

He laughs. “I have to admit; it’s quite entertaining to see him without a job.”

“Tell me about it.” She shakes her head, then she sighs. “Karma is so sweet, isn’t it?”

“One hundred percent.”

They managed to share some laughs. The previous that briefly invaded Meg’s thoughts had now disappeared and she was able to let loose again.

“But seriously though,” He says after they both calm down, “keep doing what you’re doing with that song. I love what I’m hearing so far.”

“Yea?”

“Definitely.”

She smiles. “Thanks, Herc.”

“Any time. Fiddle around with it more and then give me another call so we can discuss lyrics together.” He suggests with a smile. “Sound good?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Sweet!”

Though the offer was tempting, there was another feeling beginning to stir in her stomach. The smile from her face slowly vanishes, and she’s back to biting down on her lip. _‘Just tell him already!’_ She’s about to open her mouth to speak, when-

“Yea?!” Hercules calls out

“Dad wants you there at the studio in ten minutes!” Called the feminine muffled bellowing voice from down below.

“Alright!”

A solemn look as Meg gives out a soft sigh. “Gotta go?”

“Meh, yea, I guess so.” He heaves a sigh of his own as he scratches the back of his head. Then he wrinkles his brows. “You okay?”

“Y-yea, I’m fine.” She laughs lightly, waving a hand dismissively. “You go ahead.”

A grimace, and then a slight head shake. “Are you sure? Is there anything else on your mind?”

“No, no. It’s fine.” A small smile. “Go. I don’t want your dad yelling at you for being late.”

He blinks, though he’s appears to be the least bit convinced. “Alright. Remember, I’m just a phone call away. You can always call me on my cell.”

“Of course. Thanks. Now go, Wonder boy.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. See you, Meg.”

And then her screen goes blank, with only the little blue icons on her Skype list being the main thing to occupy her screen. Suddenly, there’s a feeling of uncertainty clawing at her insides, and she casts her gaze downwards.

Immediately, she regrets not being upfront with him. Because it was the main reason why she had video called him in the first place. Not about the stupid song. As she heaves a heavy sigh, she takes solemn look over her shoulder, her violet eyes never leaving the sight of the bedroom door, and immediately, her thoughts began to drift to the person who was currently occupying the bed behind the door.

_‘Now what do I do?’_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Reviews:**  
>  **Anonymousreader:** Your wish is my command!  
>  **R.:** You are so sweet! The next chapter is here my love!  
>  **Von:** I love you you beautiful human!
> 
>  **Warning:** This chapter will have mentions of past sexual abuse. Read on your own dispense!

Three days pass, and it’s now Sunday.

“Elsa?” Meg knocks on the door with soft raps. A mug of steaming Chamomile tea was cradled in her hand. “Can I come in?”

No answer.

“Elsa?”

Still no answer.

She sighs, knocking again. “Elsa, come on. Will you please answer me?”

Yet again, she was met with silence.

“Elsa, I’m coming in.” Her hand grasps the golden handle. “You better be decent.”

When she slowly pushes the door open, what she had expected to see was the same view she always saw; strands of platinum blonde hair peeking out while the large comforters hiding her from the world as it swallowed up her frail body underneath.

But it was the sight that caused her to pause in her tracks and become unnaturally still. Suddenly, her stomach feels hard, and sadness is the name of the game as far as her expression is concerned.

“Elsa?”

The woman says nothing, though she flinches at the sound of her name.

She’s not sleeping like Meg had anticipated. Instead, she’s sitting upright in the bed with her back leaning against the fluffy pillows. The covers are still around her. She has her arms wrapped around her middle, holding herself tightly as if she had just been violated and was ashamed to show the world her vulnerabilities.

She doesn’t move. Ice blue pearls appear to be staring at the wall, but it was the blank expression and the lack of life that sits in her pupils. As if they were searching for some place to go. Anywhere. Only to be left in a dark hole with no chance at ever finding the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Hey,” Meg takes a few tentative steps towards the bed, slowly setting the mug down onto the end table, “sweetie, I brought you some tea.”

Usually, Elsa would beam at the mention of ‘tea’. Silently, Meg finds herself recalling those memories of that beautiful smile that would tug at the corners of Elsa’s lips when Meg were to present her with a warm beverage the mornings after their previous nights of bliss.

That was a few years ago, when their relationship was nothing but beautiful and thriving.

But now, things were different. Their romance was no more.

And now, as she’d done so before moments ago, Elsa fails to acknowledge the presence of the other figure in the room.

It was the fear written on Elsa’s features that formed a slight frown on Meg’s brow.

It was the way how Elsa’s brain had shut down. The way how the sunlight that leaked through the glass window highlighted the glisten of cold sweat on her pale, clammy skin. The way how her eyes were widened as if she was waiting for _him_ to come and deliver the fatal blow once and for all. But there was no where for her to go, trapped in her own psychosis that Meg was no stranger to.

She knew that look. Because she had lived in that fear for majority of her life.

A heavy sigh seeping from her lips was the only thing that Meg was capable of providing right now. She doesn’t take her eyes off the woman, though she opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it just as quickly. She takes a minute to observe Elsa’s choice in wardrobe,

White long-sleeved shirt that did little to shield the view of her light pink bra, and Meg could make out the dark shades of bruises that was a major contrast to her pale skin. Meg probably guessed that she was still in those same, grey sweatpants. She was just grateful that Elsa managed to rinse herself off, even though she hadn’t taken a full shower since they got here.

She sighs again, then flicks her wrist to check the time on her watch.

“It’s noon.” Meg says softly. “You’ve been in here all morning.”

But Elsa says nothing. Doesn’t even flinch.

“You haven’t eaten anything either.” She slowly settles her weight onto the other side of the bed so that their shoulders were almost touching. “Are you hungry?”

Nothing.

“You know, it’s a beautiful day out.” She looks over Elsa’s shoulder, noting the golden specks of sunlight painting the carpeted floor with tiny diamond jewels. “Maybe we could go for a walk on the beach.”

Their morning walks on the beach was always something that got them through the day after their nights of intense bliss. Even something like _that_ failed to bring Elsa back to the land of living.

But that didn’t stop Meg from trying.

“What do you say?” She asks with a little smile. “How about we have some lunch, and then we can go out for-“

“I don’t want to go for a walk.”

She hadn’t expected the soft, but firm voice that spoke. Nor was she prepared for such an abrupt response. All she could do was fix the woman with an incredulous look. But when her gaze eventually softens to a knowing look, she presses her lips into a tight line, and breaths a heavy sigh through her nose.

“Alright, well, we don’t have to go for a walk then.” She says with a reassuring tone. “But I still think you should eat something.”

A grimace slowly finds its way to Elsa’s brows and settles itself in between. “I’m not hungry.”

“Elsa, you’ve been saying that for the past week.” It doesn’t long for the grimace to pass on to Meg. “You barely eaten anything since we got here.”

“I ate plenty.”

“ _One_ orange and a couple bites of yogurt doesn’t count.” There’s iron in her tone, and she doesn’t hesitate to roll her eyes in the process. “You need to eat something.”

She says nothing. Instead, her nearly lithe pale shoulders hunch themselves upwards, as if she merely wanted the covers around her body to just swallow her whole and bury her away from the world where no one could ever find her. Her eyes were now protruding and she grinds her teeth.

But Meg being the bold woman she is, is having none of that.

“Look, Elsa, I don’t care you if you wanna stay holed up in the bedroom for the rest of the day.” She shakes her, violet pearls rolling yet again. “If you really want me to, I can bring you some lunch and you can eat it in here-“

“I told you I’m not hungry!”

Silence lingers between them. And it’s no longer the comforting silence that often caressed their skin as they gazed into each other’s eyes, stroking each other’s faces while their naked bodies latched together like puzzle pieces. Instead, it was the one that gnawed at their insides and was ready to swallow both of them whole.

Meg’s only response is to inhale a sharp breath. Lips were pressed into a tight line, witnessing the way how Elsa’s face was now painted with red. The way how her eyebrows were scrunched together. Though she still fails to look in her direction. And so, as always, she mentally counts down from fifteen. Then to ten. Five.

“Elsa,” She begins with a firm tone, “I don’t want to fight with you, okay?”

“Then don’t.” The woman presses, enunciating the words with careful articulation. “Just leave me be.”

“I’ve been _‘leaving you be’_ for the past week.” She glares. “I’m _not_ asking much from you. _All_ I’m asking, is that you _eat_ something.”

Silence again.

Meg keeps her gaze trained on the woman sitting next to her. Noting the fires of fury smoldered in those narrowed eyes. Elsa doesn’t look in her direction, but she’s glaring at the wall as though someone was standing in her front of her. A heavy sigh sips through Meg’s lips yet again, and she goes to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Look, I’m trying to help you here, alright?”

Her expression hardens. “I didn’t ask for your help.” She grinds out.

“Oh really?” She glares. “ _Who_ was the one that came knocking at _my_ door, crying to me at quarter after twelve in the morning?”

The way how Elsa winces had Meg immediately recognizing the error in her choice of words. Regret promptly weighs heavily on her chest, and she heaves another sigh.

“I’m just looking out for you.” She confesses in a softer tone. “That’s all.”

“I don’t _need_ you to look out for me!”

Another sigh. “Elsa, stop.” An eyeroll followed as she rises from the bed. “Let’s not do this right now, okay? Come on, let’s just get you something-“

“I’m said I’m _not_ hungry!”

“Stop it.” If she meant to make it sound like she was scolding her five-year-old daughter, Meg was certain she was doing a good at that. Then she reaches out a hand to grab hold of Elsa’s wrist. “You’re going to eat-“

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

It wasn’t just the fact that Elsa had pulled herself away from Meg’s touch. 

It wasn’t just the holler from Elsa’s voice that reverberates in Meg’s ears like a clap of thunder. Nor was it the way how those beautiful blue eyes were now the epitome of ‘touch me again, and _die_ ’; narrowed, rigid, cold, hard and flashing with indignance and anger that had Meg pressing her lips into a tighter line.

It was the pain behind those blue pearls that bore untold pain behind those pupils. It showed the scared the scared person within, the woman was taught to fight and starved of the love she craved. Right away, Meg could see the pain beneath it, watching as the woman’s whole soul has drowned in this persona she’d carved to fit into a world of indifference.

“YOU’RE NOT MY GODDAMN MOTHER! STOP TREATING ME LIKE A CHILD!”

As much as she wanted to fight back, even Meg knew that she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Because that would just make her a hypocrite. But it wasn’t only that. It was the fact that looking at Elsa, so fearful, in so much pain and lacking any hope left, it was as if Meg had been looking into her own reflection. Because she knew that fear so very well.

With a heavy sigh, she cups her hands around her hips. She’s about to open her mouth to speak, when,

“Why are you looking at me like that?!”

Meg blinks once, and then another, chewing her lip between her teeth. “…Like what, Elsa?” Her tone is soft, so soft.

“Like I’m…I’m weak?!” Her eyes well up with angry tears. “Like I’m…” Her hands ball up into fists, “…like I’m nothing but dam-“

“ _Damaged goods?”_

The way how Elsa flinched at those words had told Meg that she hit a nerve. Almost instantly, does the fury melt itself from her pale features, though the scowl was still present. She’s about to open her mouth to speak, blinking once, and then another, but Meg beat her to it.

“What?” Meg asks with a cocked eyebrow. “You didn’t think I’d remember that?”

Elsa’s defensive scowl immediately drops as she visibly flinches at Meg’s tone, abrupt but full of bitterness, hurt and resentment. Her eyes widen, her mouth drops open and two lone tears slide down her cheeks. Realization finally hits her at the pained look painted on Meg’s features, and instantly, she and Meg are back on Elsa’s front porch.

“I-I…” Her voice cracks. “…I...I s-said that t-to you...?”

A scoff that was laced with a snort. “You forgot already?”

The woman swallows.

“You don’t remember saying that to me? How could you forget, Elsa?” A dry chuckle as Meg shakes her head and turns to stare at the wall. “It was-“ She pauses, a crack in her own voice, then a sigh, “it was the night that you broke up with me.” She bites her lip, “for good.”

Elsa blinks rapidly. “I…I-I…Meg I-“

She puts up a hand to stop her. “You know what…” A sigh, “don’t bother. Forget I said anything.” Then she goes to pinch the bridge of her nose. “It was a long time ago and…I shouldn’t be bringing up things from the past.”

Elsa’s eyes flickered, nibbling shamefully at her lip. Unable to take her eyes off the woman she once loved.

“I’ll leave you alone.” Came Meg’s next response, a pained look as she turns to stare at the open door. “You can eat whenever you’re ready.” And she turns on her heel to head towards the door, when,

“Wait!”

She pauses mid-step. Her back goes stiff and she closes her eyes and inhales sharply through her nose. Though she fails to see the way Elsa was now reaching out her hand towards her, desperate to let her go. “Elsa, it’s fine. I won’t-“

“Meg, wait…” Meg flinches at the contact of Elsa’s cold skin meeting her own. Her hands grasping onto her wrist for dear life. “P-please stay?”

She takes in another deep breath.

“Please?”

It was the way how the tone in her voice quivered. Sounding so weak, so desperate, so scared, Meg’s heart painfully clenches in her chest. Because she knew that no matter how much she herself was hurting, it would be selfish to pass on the same kind of treatment that Elsa had given to her that night she stood helplessly on Elsa’s doorstep.

So, when she finally releases the breath she was holding on to, she turns. Noting the pale hand that was desperately clinging onto her wrist, then her gaze trails down the length of her arm. When they finally rest upon the watery gaze staring helplessly into her own, it was then when a rush of guilt sits heavily on her chest. Her dry own dry face, Meg felt, was an insult to the other woman’s, in which she believed that even _she_ should’ve been more sensitive to the fact that it was merely one of the first few stages of recovery that Elsa was going through at this time.

After all, Elsa needed her. There was no way she could just shut her out and leave her to fend for herself. Even if it was what Elsa had done to her in the past.

Blowing out a soft sigh, Meg finds herself slowly easing back onto the bed. Without so much as second thought, Meg reaches towards her, cupping Elsa’s face in both her hands and uses her thumbs to wipe the tears from her cheeks. They stare at each other for what seemed like eternity; Elsa’s bottom lip was trembling and Meg chews on her lower lip. The anger that was present on Elsa’s features just moments ago had long vanished and was now replaced by puffy, red eyes and a pained expression.

“M-Meg…I-I…I-“

“Shh.” Her thumbs stroke her cheeks. “Come here.”

She pulls the woman closer towards her an envelops her in warm hug. Elsa’s only response was to bury her face in the nape of Meg’s neck, and the fabric of Meg’s purple t-shirt is now soaked with tears. But she has no objections. Instead, allowing her ex-lover to let out all the pain and sorrow that she buried inside of herself for the past few years. Elsa’s voice was muffled, but Meg was able to make out just bits and pieces of the long sentence that strung out.

“…s-so…I-I…M-Meg…m-miss you…I…”

“It’s okay, Elsa.” She says soft, so soft. “I’m right here, okay?” Then she gently peels the woman from her, who was now hiccupping and trembling. She doesn’t hesitate to press a kiss to the crown of her blonde hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Elsa’s only response was to blink a few times, her eyes never leaving Meg’s. She sniffles, hiccups, then says,

“I…I-I’m scared, Meg.” She confesses through a croaky voice.

Meg stares at her, a saddened look. “I know.” She pushes a loose strand of blonde behind her ear. “But you’re safe here, okay?”

“But…” Her eyes suddenly widen. “W-what if he…what if he f-finds me…a-and h-he-“

“He’s not going to find you, Elsa. Not out here.” Meg says in a reassuring tone. “We’re two and a half hours away from the city. There’s no way he will _ever_ find this place.”

“But Meg…” She drops her gaze, then shakes her head, “you don’t know him.” She says quietly, her voice barely a whisper. “He-“

“Hans isn’t going to find us here. I promise you that.”

“H-how…how do you know that?”

A sigh, then a small smile. “You just have to trust me.” She curls her fingers into her hand, then uses the tips of her knuckles to caress Elsa’s cheek. “Okay?”

Elsa’s only response is to blink once, and then another. There was a part of her that was uncertain whether or not she should trust the words that Meg had just spoken. But as she’s looking into those beautiful violet eyes that always made her knees go weak, it was the kindness in those eyes that were always genuine. One of the many traits the Elsa remembered falling helplessly in love with. And it was in that moment when the feelings of doubt slowly began to subside, that she finds herself leaning closer, resting her head against her breast and lets out a sigh of relief.

They say nothing. Meg’s fingers are playing notes up and down Elsa’s spine, and Elsa lets out a small sound in content at the feeling. Immediately, she begins to miss those days, waking up to soft feel of warm fingers crawling up and down her bare back. Followed by sweet kisses from those full lips peppering shoulders, her neck, her earlobe, a feeling she hasn’t felt in such a long time.

“Have you thought about pressing charges?”

Elsa’s body goes stiff and immediately, she lifts her head and gives Meg an incredulous look.

“What?”

“I said, have you thought about pressing charges?” Meg lifts a brow. “Against Hans.”

Elsa blinks once, and then another. “…Against Hans?” Then she frowns, shaking her head. “Are you crazy? I…I can’t do that.”

“You _can’t_? Or you _won’t_?”

Judging by the way Elsa flinched, Meg knew that she now has her pegged. Because even Meg knew that this was something that needed to be done. And it was something that she wished she herself would’ve done in the past.

“…Like I said, Meg,” she sighs, then looks down, her fingers playing with the hem of Meg’s shirt, “you…you don’t know Hans.”

“I don’t have to know him to _know_ what kind of man he is, Elsa.” She says with an iron grip attached to her tone. “He _hurt_ you.”

But Elsa says nothing. Just flinches at those painful memories.

“Look at what he’s done to you?”

She uses her fingers to tilt Elsa’s chin up to look at her. Her mouth pressing into a tight line at the black and blue shiner around Elsa’s eye. Not to mention, the purple and black bruises that scattered amongst her collarbone were still visible.

“He _beat_ you.” Meg says with a tight grimace. “He _beat_ you for no reason.”

There was truth to Meg’s words. Elsa knew that.

“He deserves to spend the rest of his life behind bars, Elsa.”

He does. _‘Did he though?’_

“You and I both know that.” Came Meg’s next response as Elsa flinches. “You need to press charges against him.”

Elsa heaves a heavy sigh. “He’s a _lawyer,_ Meg.”

“So?”

“He knows how the justice system works.” She looks at Meg with pleading eyes. “He knows how to bend the rules to get what he wants.”

“Which is why you take him to court, Elsa.”

“But Meg, if I do that…” She pauses, chewing on her lower lip, “he won’t even need an attorney. He’ll know how to defend himself, and he’ll figure out how to convince the jury, _and_ the judge that a case like this is grounds for ‘reasonable doubt’.”

“And so, what? He gets to walk away a free man while you spend the rest of your life in fear?” A frown dents Meg’s brow. “You just walk away with your head held down and pretend that _nothing_ happened?”

Elsa’s mouth opens, and then closes a few times. Her entire body language begins to shrink lower, and she has no choice but to cast her gaze downwards, staring at the intricate swirling patterns on the covers. Almost immediately, does Meg recognize the error in her tone, and her gaze softens as she holds Elsa closer towards her.

“Look, I’m sorry that I’m sounding harsh.” She sighs, running her fingers through Elsa’s hair. “Like I said before, I only want what’s best for you, Elsa.”

“I know.”

Right now, there doesn’t seem to be anything needed to be said at the moment. So, at this point, words are useless. All that could be heard were the soprano sounds of birds chiming away, and the alto sounds of waves crashing amongst the sandy shores soon followed. It was as if nothing has changed, and they were instantly brought back to their usual early mornings of cuddles and whispers of sweet nothings. It was only a few moments that passed when Elsa hesitates, and then decides to break the silence.

“Why can’t I…” She sighs, sad one. “Why can’t I just… _see_ that he’s a bad person?”

Meg hums in thought. “Because it’s hard to believe that someone as handsome as him, who has everything going for him, who’s loved by his friends and colleagues, who was once so sweet to you, could _ever_ do such a thing like that.”

Elsa chews on her bottom lip.

“You don’t want to believe that to the world, he’s an angel.” She continues. “But behind closed doors, he’s nothing but a monster.”

She closes her eyes. A lone tear falls slowly down her cheek.

“Because deep down, you think that if you keep showing him the love that he needs, you hope that he’ll change. And you hope that he’ll go back to loving you the way that he did before. Which is why you choose to stay with him.”

Another tear falls.

“But instead, he shows his love by hitting you.” A grimaces forms on her features. “He says he’s sorry the first time, so you forgive him.” A dry chuckle. “Then he hits you again, says that it was an accident and that he’ll never do it again. And he charms into forgiving him yet again, because he knows the right words to say.” A darkened look. “Then hits you some more, and then he says that you deserve it.”

Immediately, Meg’s own thoughts are clouded with atrocious images that she wished to never remember ever again.

“Pretty soon, he starts to manipulate you.” She says. “He starts forcing you to do things that you don’t want to do.”

Elsa flinches, a whimper escaping her lips.

“He starts filling your head with lies; telling you things like ‘no other man, _or_ woman will _ever_ be good enough for you. Only _I_ can love you the way that you deserve to be _loved_.’ But really, he’s telling you that you’re not good enough. That _no_ other person will _ever_ want you because of how dirty you are.”

Because Elsa could hear those words so vividly echoing in her ears.

“And when he wants to have sex, you can’t say no. Otherwise, he’ll beat you.” Meg whispers, her own eyes filling with tears. “So, you give in, even if you don’t want to.” Images of her own body being used and abused for hours upon hours has her flinching and her hand balling into a fist. “After a while, he knows he can use your body whenever he pleases. For whatever he wants.”

She sniffles, biting back a sob that’s wedged in the back of her throat. Because Elsa lived by those exact words that came from Meg’s lips.

The words of manipulation that diminished her self-confidence. _His_ hands smacking her around whenever she made the mistake of saying ‘no’. _His_ hands tearing at her clothes and throwing her violently onto the bed and claiming her body for his own, plunging into her over and over again while she cried. But she didn’t dare ask him to stop. Because she knew her face would be met with his fist.

There’s a shakiness in her limbs, and her skin immediately goes clammy yet again. When she cranes her head to look up into Meg’s eyes, Meg’s only response was to give Elsa a saddened look. Noting the way how her brows were slightly raised, and there was a questioning look amongst her features.

“Are you forgetting that I’ve lived this kind of life?” Her voice is soft, though there’s a bit of sarcastic edge laced with bitterness.

“You’re talking about…” Elsa hesitates, then speaks, “Gaston.”

There’s an aching in the back of her throat. Her stomach rolled and a darkened look situates itself on her features. Because in reality, Hades may have messed her up mentally, but Gaston had been the one to break her in every single way possible.

Physically. Emotionally. Mentally.

The mention of _his_ name causes her to avert her gaze to the side. Her hand shook, and there’s a ball of fury beginning to burn her insides. But it was only then when she suddenly feels a thumb and a finger softly titling her head upwards. And instantly, she’s met with those sapphire eyes that was once the center of her earth, bringing her nothing but comfort and love.

“Gaston wasn’t your fiancé, Meg.” Elsa says softly. “He’s not smart like Hans is.”

“You’re right. He wasn’t my fiancé. Nor is he in any way intelligent.” A frown. “But he did to me what Hans was doing to you.”

Elsa swallows.

“He did whatever he wanted to me. He beat me, he manipulated me, he degraded and humiliated me” She pauses, swallows, “he raped me over and over again. And Hades let him.”

Elsa’s only response was to use her thumb to stroke Meg’s cheek. She leans into Elsa's touch.

“All the things that Gaston did to me,” She begins, “was _exactly_ what Hans was doing to _you_.”

She chews on her lower lip.

“I tried to press charges. But they were never filed. Do you want to know _why_ Gaston was able to get away with everything?” Elsa swallows yet again, having an idea of where Meg was getting at. “Because _Hades_ was the one who vouched for him. _Hades_ was the one that got him off the hook.”

“…And they believed him.”

She heaves a sigh. “Yea. They believed him.”

“Meg…I had-“

“It’s funny,” Another dry chuckle, “even after I explained to the officer of that time where I woke up from having been passed out…I must’ve been drugged.” A painful lump swallowed down her throat, “When I woke up, I was naked…there were three other guys there…including Gaston…”

Elsa’s eyes widened; a look of horror had her breath hitched in her throat at the words Meg just revealed. “Meg-“

“They still didn’t believe me.” A chuckle. “Who would? After all, no one will believe a ‘dirty whore’.”

Elsa closes her eyes, and her heart clenches painfully. “I didn’t-“

“You couldn’t have known.”

Then she slowly opens her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell-“

“You had too much stuff going on at the time. With your book release and everything.” A solemn look, though there’s the slightest tilt of her mouth. “I didn’t want to burden with you my problems.”

The guilt sitting on Elsa’s chest is ice in her guts. And instantly, she’s taken down a familiar path. Taken back to that night that Meg had come knocking on her door at eleven thirty at night. Her face had been used for boxing practice, and she had managed to keep the rest of her body covered from head to toe. She’d been desperate for help, needing the love and comfort from the one person whom she knew could give it to her.

Only little did Meg know, that that night would be the night that Elsa had shut her out of her life forever.

“…I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Meg shakes her head, a bitter smile. “It was a long time ago. There’s nothing we can do about it now. What’s done is done. It’s all in the past.”

It was something about those that rendered Elsa speechless. And it was the pain in Meg’s voice that caused a metaphorical punch to hit Elsa in the gut. The guilt inside of her expanded, cutting through organs. She regretted that night. She regretted being so selfish having left Meg to fend for herself when it clear that she needed help. And if she had the chance to turn back the clocks, she would gladly would’ve welcomed her lover back into her loving arms and dumped that sorry-excuse-of-a-man.

Only she couldn’t. And right now, this is where they are.

“Meg…”

They stare in each other’s eyes, both full of nothing but pain and longing. Cold fingers still resting under Meg’s chin, and she allowed Elsa’s thumb to caress her skin. Her lips...

Elsa wasn’t sure what had come over her. But the next thing she knew, she’s leaning forward, her lips finding Meg’s full ones and crashes their lips together. Elsa was kissing her. Though Meg was stunned, it doesn’t long for her to give in. She kisses Elsa back, though her kiss more controlled, while Elsa’s was full of desperation and need. Her lips graze over Meg’s, and just as she’s about to push her tongue past her lips, it was when the kiss had come to sudden stop as Meg gently pulls away.

“You’re feeling vulnerable right now, aren’t you?” Meg answers softly, noting the confused look on the woman’s face.

She blinks. “What are-“

“You’re vulnerable, Elsa.” She says knowingly. “You’re craving that affection that you haven’t felt in a while. And now with you feeling this way…you’ll do _anything_ to get that.”

Elsa’s only response is to chew on her lower lip. Because realization hit her once again, the words immediately hitting close to home. Her eyes well up with tears, and they cascade down her face. She didn’t want to, but in that moment, she bows her head and her shoulder begin to shake with sobs. The last thing she needed was for Meg to see her in her weak state, but it was too late for that.

And when feels a pair of arms wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her closer, the only thing she could do was to cling onto Meg for dear life. For fear that she would slip through the cracks of her fingers again.

“It’s okay, Elsa. You’re going to be okay.” Was the last thing she hears Meg whisper as she dozes back into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

It turns out that Elsa needed more sleep. With the number of bags under her eyes, two years of living in fear had caught up to her. But Meg couldn’t fault for that. So, she had let her sleep for the remainder of the day.

With the number of bags under her eyes, two years of living in fear had caught up to her. But Meg couldn’t fault for that. So, she had let her sleep for the remainder of the day.

She’s not sure how long it’s been since she last when to check on Elsa. All she knows is that the sun’s rays are now shades of rich hues of oranges, purples and crimsons blending together that now poured through the cracks of the shutters in the bathroom, bathing the lavender carpet in an unearthly glow.

She had thought about going out for a nice evening walk on the beach and watching the sun set back into its horizon.

But then last minute, she decided against it.

And unfortunately, that had been a flop.

Meg is sitting on the bathroom floor, knees drawn to her chest, her back leaning against the little cupboards that were attached to the sink. Violet pearls stared straight at the ivory tiles of the shower that sparkled proudly. It was weird to think that something even as calming as watching the way how the pinks and oranges bounced off her skin didn’t even seem to bring her a shred of joy like it always did.

Instead, her mind is preoccupied with other things.

Things that she didn’t want to remember.

In reality, her conversation – more like confession – that she had earlier this afternoon with Elsa was beginning to mess with her mental state. Rehashing old memories of her past hadn’t been the ideal way she wanted to spend her day. But unfortunately, for both their sake, it was something that needed to happen.

And no matter how many times Meg would deny it, talking to someone about her past – other than Hercules – was one of the steps to recovery. She had been against it at first, and there was a part of her that _still_ was against it. But deep down in her gut, even Meg was no fool to know how crucial it was to discuss the events of her past. No matter how painful, or how uncomfortable it may be.

As much as she still experiences some discomfort when attending her usual AA meetings and therapy sessions, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, the past six months of those weekly meetings had done wonders for her overall mental health and well-being.

That was mainly thanks to Hercules and his father, Zeus, who were so generous enough to offer to pay for her weekly sessions. It was their way of looking out for and merely wanting nothing but the best for her.

Meg was grateful for the both of them. She really was.

And the best thing, was that neither Hercules or his father _ever_ expected _anything_ in return. They were just generous people who had hearts of gold and were willing to share that goodness with anyone who needed it.

Poor. Rich. Stable. Unstable. Happy. Sad. Even weird people could benefit from their generosity. Which is why they had many potential clients lined up at the door and so eager to be signed to their record label and taken under their wings.

Meg was just happy that she was fortunate enough to attract their attention with not just her looks. But for her talent. Talent was what they had been looking for.

Unlike James – or _Hades_ he preferred – her old manager she wished to _never_ think about _ever_ again.

Just the mere thought of him caused a grimace to form between her brows.

Meg had to wonder how on earth that someone like him was able to secure an income as a music manager. Seeing as he lacked the knowledge and basic necessities that _music_ required. It was amazing to think that the man was unable to have knowledge of what a basic ‘C Major’ scale was. Nor was he knowledgeable when it came to rhythm, pitch, melody and the basic simple beats of _1, 2, 3, 4._ So to say, where ever talent was concerned, a man like Hades was incapable of having any such thing.

By no means was he a musician in any way, shape or form.

He often wore black leather pants and black shiny converse shoes that resembled a sixteen-year-old going through some sort of punk style faze. Add in the punk style tank tops, t-shirts, dress shirts and a long black robe with skull garments, and you have a fantastic view of the world’s biggest freak. Not to mention, the streaks of blue dye did very little to cover up the grey hairs. He liked to think of himself as the Ancient Greek version of Marilyn Manson, the ultimate Goth Rock God. But given the fact that the black make-up did little to hide his wrinkles, his attempt at making himself look younger had eventually backfired.

He tried to look the part, at least to make up for his lack of knowledge in music. Meg could give him credit for that. 

But it was sad to say that his style (or attempt of) didn’t make up for the fact that he had no idea what the difference was between a piano and a guitar.

Two of the most basic instruments that even a four-year-old was capable of figuring out.

It would’ve been better for him had his business skills been up to date. But unfortunately, running a business also didn’t seem to be something he was good at. So to the average person, he had _no_ talent whatsoever _and_ he sucked at running a business.

But one thing about Hades that Meg finds herself agreeing with, is the fact that he was always good at persuading people. He was always artistic with his words, seeing as he was always able to persuade even the most gorgeous of women to sign onto his record deal, despite his creepy looks and sleazy personality.

Even Meg had fallen for his charade. And to still to this day, she refuses to forgive herself for it.

She believed every word he said. Believed all those empty lies he promised her of making it big in the music industry as a singer-songwriter. She believed him when he said that he could get her a larger fan base. She even believed that he could take her so far to the top that she would be winning multiple Grammy Awards. Heck, he even convinced her that in order for her to be successful in the music industry, that switching from her usual style – classy rock that consisted of ripped jeans with black thigh high boots, often wearing off the shoulder crop tops and short black leather jackets – to what resembled a ‘wannabe Britney Spears’ look would get her to where she needed to be.

Although she’d been skeptical at first, Meg found herself agreeing. Because at the time, she was a starving musician. Desperate for money, but most importantly, she’d been desperate to live out her dream.

But little did she know what she would be getting herself into.

And it was only then that she figured out that he was nothing but a dirty fraud. A dirty, manipulative, and _horny_ fraud.

Sadly, all of those empty promises came with a price she’d found herself unwillingly having to pay.

Hades had been the first one to force his body upon hers. He would often tell her _‘if you want your fans to believe that you’re sexy, you prove to_ me _how_ sexy _you really are’_ and that was that. They had sex a few times – though at this point, Meg wasn’t even sure if she could call it that. Her late-night recording sessions had been exchanged for nights of pleasure for _him_. Pretty soon, he started demanding for her to change her sound, forcing her to pretend to act and play the role of someone that she wasn’t.

 _‘Not sexy enough! Sing that line over!’_ She flinches at those words _‘Too vulnerable, not enough sassiness. Do that line over!_ ’ She hated him. _‘You’re sounding too sad, babe. Pretend as if you were…_ making love _to the microphone.’_ It wasn’t who she was. It wasn’t who she wanted to be. But unfortunately, she had let this man dictate her sound. Dictate her every move. Her choice in wardrobe. What she ate and what she drank. Who she could and couldn’t hang out with. He even went as far as being able to dictate _who_ she was or wasn’t permitted to date.

Because of that, it was the reason why she’d been sneaking around with her girlfriend at the time.

She was a dancer, something that Meg found incredibly sexy and appealing. She’d grown up in mellow city of Montreal and moved to the crazy streets Toronto when she was eighteen to pursue her dancing career. They hadn’t been together long, but what they had was blissful. Exciting and thrilling. And it was the first time in a while where Meg had had felt in control. But unfortunately, that control had been taken from her the minute _Hades_ had finally been able to work a cellphone, and go through her text messages, only to discover her relationship with a woman.

So to say, he had told her ex-girlfriend to get lost, claiming that Meg had an image to protect and that he couldn’t risk his _protégé_ getting being seen with a _woman_.

That was when Gaston had come into the picture.

He was the lead singer of a rock band that Meg couldn’t be bothered to even remember the name of. Sure, he definitely had the looks that every woman dreamed of. Muscles everywhere to the point it looked like that was all he had. Long black hair that was silky enough for him to wave around while screaming into microphone on stage that made girls and women of all ages swoon to. Some people thought of him as Mick Jagger’s look-a-like. But the only difference was that Mick Jagger could actually _sing_. Mick Jagger actually had _talent_.

Like Hades, Gaston, in no way shape or form, had _any_ talent in his pinky.

He sucked at singing, Meg thought to herself as Hades had introduced them a few months later after having battled depression when her ex-girlfriend had left. Sure, _any_ woman would’ve melted into a puddle of goo the minute Gaston flashed that gorgeous smile– he liked to think he had a gorgeous smile. But the minute Meg saw him, she hated him almost instantly. Mainly because he reminded her of the guys she’d gone to high school with.

Hades had reminded her that she needed to keep up with her image. Gaston was the perfect way for her to do so. Though just at the mere sight of her, it didn’t take that much effort to get Gaston to agree. So to say, they pretended that their ‘relationship’ was a gem. To the world, they fit together perfectly. They looked the part, he was the hard-looking Mick Jagger, while she was the bombshell at his side who wore bandages for tube tops and tight pants that were hard for her to breathe in with 3-inch stiletto heels that caused blisters to appear on her feet.

Meg is brought back the land of the living, shaking her head as her body shivered at the haunting images of her past. Heaving a heavy sigh, ignoring the fact that her butt was going numb, her eyes find themselves drifting the view of her hands that were resting on her knees. Slowly, she removes her hands, turns them over so that she’s looking down at her wrists. Swallowing down a large lump, her eyes beginning to well with tears, she takes note of the silvery snake like scars that began from where hand and wrist meet and trailed all the way down to her elbows.

A lone tear slides down her cheek. Soon, another one follows. Normally, she would’ve batted the tears away from her face as if she were getting rid of a pesky fly. For fear that her vulnerability would show. But right now, she lets the tears flow unchecked downwards, but she doesn’t cry out loud. Or sob. Instead, she presses her mouth into a tight line, unable to tear her gaze away from the sight of her battered wrists. 

No matter how much she wanted to forget, Meg knew that she couldn’t.

Hades and Gaston, they had _both_ been the reason for those scars on her wrist.

Every time Hades said anything that would diminish her self-confidence, or cause her panic attacks behind the stage, she had reached for a blade to the pain away. Every time Gaston’s hands greeted her body with harsh blows, or use her body for his own sick fantasies, a bottle of vodka was her best friend.

After all, Hades was the one who had paid Gaston to act like her ‘boy toy’. And being the horny baffoon he was, Gaston had absolutely _no_ objections whatsoever. As long as he had a hot body and pretty face to add to his image - which he often did, he didn't complain. After all, he was used to getting what he wanted. He was used to getting his own way. Heck, he could have _any_ woman he wanted, no matter if she said yes or no. Just as long as he could get away with it. Hades had no objections. He had no complaints when she showed up to rehearsals with a black eye, a swollen lip, or bruises running up and down her arms and neck. He didn’t even care if Gaston would share her with his friends from time to time when she was passed out from having been given a hot shot. Nor did he care that she had ended up the hospital from a combination of being beaten to the point where she couldn’t walk and having been force fed cocaine and heroine.

They had used her. And they had used her until she was wrung out and numb of any emotion.

She sniffles, not realizing that her vision became blurry, choking on a sob that was desperate to escape any minute. Her lower lip trembled; her teeth attempted to keep its grip tightened on it. Because she couldn’t allow people to see her cry.

 _‘Crying is for wusses!’_ His voice echoed harshly in her head. _‘You wouldn’t want your fans to see how…_ weak _you really are now, do you?’_

It happened so suddenly before she had a minute to digest what was going on. Just like that, more tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. Her throat tightens, and her chest instantly begins to feel heavy with lead. Another sob racks her chest. Pretty soon, she slowly bows her head down and rests her forehead against the balls of her knees as she allowed her heart the opportunity to yank in and out of her chest. It pulled in and out like a yo-yo. Over and over. In and out. Her shoulders are shaking with each sob that erupts. As much as she always hated looking weak, there was an odd sense of comfort that followed.

Because she’d been hiding behind a shadow for pretty much her entire life, now was the opportunity to allow her vulnerabilities to pour out of her. And strangely enough, it was beginning to feel…good.

But right now, Meg needed to cry. She needed to let out all of the pain and hurt she’s been bottling for pretty much her entire life.

She needed to release the abuse that Hades put her through.

She needed to release the pain that Gaston had inflicted upon her.

She needed to release it all.

And crying was the only way for her to do that right now.

As she’s sitting on the bathroom floor, allowing the tears to pour out of her, Meg fails to notice the presence of the other woman listening from the other side of the door.

* * *

To say that her breakdown in the bathroom – her first breakdown in months – was not how she initially planned to spend her evening. However, it was something that she needed.

So, when she had called Hercules and spoke briefly with him on the phone, he confirmed her thoughts. Explaining to her that it was okay. That she’s not weak. That crying is healthy.

As always, her conversation with Hercules was a positive one. And so, that was how she spent the remainder of the night.

Now it’s night time, and Meg is walking towards the bedroom where Elsa is. Taking a deep breath, allowing whatever tension she had towards her disappear, she knocks on the door. Not long after, it isn’t until she hears the soft, “come in” that she slowly pushes the door open and enters. Elsa is sitting almost exactly how Meg had found her earlier. Sitting upright on the bed with her back leaning against the pillows that were propped up against the headboard. Only this time, her hands are clasped together in her lap, the blinds are still open, and the lamp is on.

Crossing her arms over her chest and leans her shoulder against the doorframe, she greets the woman. “Hey.”

“Hi, Meg.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Umm…a bit better, I guess.”

She cocks a brow. “You guess?”

Elsa shrugs. “Yea. As good can be.” She doesn’t take her gaze off the woman standing at the door. “…How are you?”

This time, she finds herself mirroring Elsa’s actions. “I’m alright.”

Elsa swallows. “Are you sure?”

She furrows her brow. There’s a look in Elsa’s eyes that causes a muscle under the corner of her right eye to involuntarily twitch. Noting the way how the woman’s lips were pressed flat together. It was something she always did when she sensed that something was wrong. And right away, Meg casts her gaze downward at the hardwood floor, the hesitation of anxiety beginning to course through her veins. Though they don’t exactly make it to her features.

Because the last thing she needed was to look vulnerable a second time today.

“You’re doing that thing again.” Came Elsa’s soft voice.

She looks up. “What thing?”

“That thing where you cross your arms over your chest? And you hug yourself like you’re afraid of something?” Meg swallows, because she knew Elsa was no fool to these signs. “You do that when something’s bothering you.”

There’s a rolling feeling fluttering about in her stomach, her fingers and toes become tingly. Because judging by how those sapphire orbs were staring straight in her violet ones, told Meg that Elsa indeed knew something she didn’t.

_‘But…she was asleep! There’s no way she could’ve heard me…’_

“Meg?”

She’s brought back to the land of the living. Chewing on her lower lip.

“You know if there’s something wrong, you can talk to me.”

Once upon a time, that may have worked. But right now, talking to her about her issues was the last thing she wanted to do.

“I’m fine.”

“Meg, you’re not-“

“I’m _fine_ , Elsa.” She tries for a small smile, though it didn’t reach her lips. “Honest.”

All they could do was stare. Stare into each other’s souls like it was no one’s business. Sapphire versus Violet. Unblinking, the both of them refusing to give up. Because there was knowing. They both knew each other’s secrets and their fears. But both were unwilling to fold any time soon. Elsa knew that Meg was hiding something. Meg knew that Elsa knew something that she wasn’t willing to admit.

It was only until after a few moments, that Elsa lets out a sigh. Those she refuses to take her gaze off Meg’s. “Do you…” She hesitates, swallows, “do you want to stay here…for a bit?”

Meg inhales a deep breath. Her mind immediately paints pictures of Elsa in that bed. But with no clothes on. Her bare body meshing together with hers. Tangled in naked limbs and engaging in heavy bliss. “Umm…it’s okay…I’ll just-“

“You can stay here for a bit Meg. I…I don’t mind.”

“Elsa…really, I-“

“Meg, come.” She pats the comforter. Chewing on her lower lip. “…Please?”

She’s silent for a moment. Her eyes darting between her ex-lover and the empty side of the bed. The empty side where her body used to sleep. The offer was tempting. _Very_ tempting. But there was a part of her that feared the worst. Fearing that sleeping wouldn’t be the only thing taking place in the room. Because back then, when it was just the two of them, sleeping barely ever took place in this room. And as much as she desperately wanted to be brought back to those blissful times, no matter how much her body was craving it, even Meg knew that something like _that_ would only lead to disaster.

But it was that pleading look in Elsa’s eyes that caused her to think otherwise. It wasn’t merely just for Meg’s benefit, but this was Elsa’s way of saying ‘ _I need you. Please stay.’_

Meg sucks in a breath, holds it, then lets it go slowly. She eases off the frame off the door and takes tentative steps towards the bed. Her heart beats rapidly inside her chest as she takes another look at the empty void of space in the bed that was beckoning her to lay in its field of temptation. Then she moves her gaze to look into those sapphire eyes, begging her to come along for the journey. With another breath, she slowly lowers herself onto the mattress and it embraces her like an old friend. She can feel Elsa’s gaze boring into her person as she watches her settle onto the bed. And once she does, she lets out an exhale, resting her head against the pillow, a hand placed on her stomach and her other laying astray at her side as she keeps her gaze trained on the ceiling above.

She doesn’t take her eyes off the ceiling, and she can hear the other woman shift. The sheets tugging and pulling and sliding, and Meg was certain she felt the moment Elsa’s fingertips brush against her hand. Pretty soon, Elsa’s laying on her side, facing her, and Meg forces herself to do everything in her power to not give in and look into her eyes.

But she can’t.

After a few moments, she blows out a deep sigh and finds herself mirroring Elsa’s actions, shifting on her side. Their gazes were locked on one another’s. Staring into each other’s souls as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Because they hadn’t. Which was something that they both missed. How they both were yearning for this moment to come.

It was the last thing Meg had expected, when she feels cold fingertips brushing through the strands of her hair. Her thumb strokes her cheekbone. And right away, Meg finds herself melting into Elsa’s gentle touch. As if she was merely caressing the pain away. Her eyelids begin to flutter and a sigh, laced with a low moan escapes from her lips.

“You always used to fall asleep when I did this.” Elsa chuckles softly, filling Meg’s nostrils with the sweet flavour of mint.

Meg finds herself chuckling as well. “Yeah. I remember.” Another sigh. “You would sing to me sometimes too.”

“You loved that.”

“I did.”

“…I miss this.”

She opens her eyes. Noting the look of remorse that was silently sitting on Elsa’s pupils. She swallows, unsure of what to say.

“…Me too.” She confesses in a quiet tone.

“Meg…”

Her body stiffens as she feels Elsa’s other hand moving down to her spine and pulls her closer so that their bodies are pressed against each other. Her fingers ran a deep melody against every notch down her back. But Meg didn’t stop her. Didn’t pull away from her. Instead, her own hand goes to wrap itself around Elsa’s waist. Her head is resting against Elsa’s shoulder, the soft mounds of her breasts are pressed against hers. The rhythm of her heart is beating in sync with her own. Elsa’s chin is resting on the crown of her head.

When Meg feels a thumb and forefinger under her chin and tilting her head up, it was the way how their eyes met. The look of longing and desperation hidden underneath. And the last thing Meg knew, Elsa’s lips were on hers.

She kissed her, and the like always, the world away. And Meg didn’t stop her. For she was giving into the kiss. But this kiss was different than earlier. It wasn’t out of desperation. It was if she was instantly brought back to the memories of their first date. The way how their lips meshed together so perfectly that it fit like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t fiery and full of hunger like it was usually was. But instead full of passion and gentleness like after how they made love. There was longing, that was mixed with passion and sensuality. For a while, as their lips are moving together, Meg was certain she could almost taste the sob that wanted to escape from Elsa’s throat. Only Elsa didn’t let it.

Cool fingers began to claw at Meg’s shirt, but she only kept her hand hugging the curve of Elsa’s hip.

But Meg was the one who decided to cut ties and slowly pull away. Though she ignores the confused look on Elsa’s features. She doesn’t look into her eyes, and it’s Elsa who leans in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. Almost instantly, sleep begins to pool inside her eyes and Meg wastes no time in allowing her eyelids to close.

Not long after, does Elsa follow suit and join in with her, her head resting against the crown of her own. Sleep cloaks the both of them. But it was only after a few moments, that Meg’s eyes slowly begin to open after she hears the soft words of,

“…I love you…”

And it was in that instant that Meg was slowly beginning to regret her decision. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...curious to find out what happens next?

**Author's Note:**

> Is it worth continuing?


End file.
